


Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, and Moving

by symbioticdeath



Series: Deadlier Than [2]
Category: Divergent - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Makeup, Miscommunication, Tris Prior Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symbioticdeath/pseuds/symbioticdeath
Summary: Tris is new to this whole serious relationship thing and is learning things don't always go smoothly.
Relationships: Lauren/Tris Prior
Series: Deadlier Than [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186931
Kudos: 1





	Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, and Moving

Tris knew three things about Eric when his gait took on what Lauren called Leader Mode.

First, he could out stubborn a rock.

Secondly, his plans were often more than not flawless.

And finally, his hatred of Four ran deeper than Lake Michigan.

She followed him to the freight elevator that went to the part of the Dauntless compound that housed mostly empty “apartments” and that was a generous label. He simply told her to come with him and in true Coulter fashion, said nothing more.

Although strangely, he was bouncing on his heels.

“Any reason you’re acting like R&D just handed you a new toy to play with? Tris asked. She wondered what had him so happy when she was anxious. Something was off with Lauren and she couldn’t place her finger on it. They’d been dating for a while, but now the other woman seemed to be pulling away.

Lauren rescheduled their past few dates due to having to cover shifts or for another nameless reason which involved Eric. Not like Lauren’s best friend went out of his way to spill the beans to her girl friend.

“You with me, Prior?” Eric asked. He took her hand before the doors opened. “And it’s better than any of R&D’s toys. Don’t tell them I said that.”

He dragged her through a dimly lit hallway. In the months she took the time to know the blonde, he never overstepped his bounds with her which earned him the privilege of touching her. They stopped in front of a familiar door, she knew this door, and she wished she didn’t. 

“Eric, why are you-” he interrupted her by banging on the door. It shook in the frame.

“Going to have to fix that, really flimsy,” Eric mumbled. He pulled a piece of paper from a pocket, writing quickly.

Tris schooled her face into blankness when Four opened the door. Their breakup hadn’t been so much of a mutual thing as her telling him she just couldn’t put up with his...well everything. His issues ran too deep for her to live with, not to mention he was controlling and a few other red serious flags.

“Coulter.” Four said. He looked over at her, “What do you want?”

“Requisitions says you have to swap with Lauren.” Eric said. He held out the paper, shaking it until Four took it. Unofficially Eric lived with Lauren in a place that at best, could be described as a shoebox. Now that Tris was over there more and more, it became closer quarters between the three of them. “You’re one guy and she needs more room.”

Tris really wished Eric had mentioned they were going to have a face to face with his favorite person to torment before her third cup of coffee. She began the counting exercise that Christina taught her.

“This is a receipt from a Candor Liquor store with ‘get out’ written on the back in marker.” Four said. He squared up, obviously accepting the challenge Eric threw down in front of him.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Floor.”

Tris started her counting over.

“It’ll be great once we get the stench of self righteous out,” Eric continued on, seemingly intent on poking the bear. His hands were loose at his side, the first sign that he expected to throw the first punch.

“Okay, here’s how this is going to go,” Tris said after her third counting attempt failed. She got in front of Eric, shoving him backwards with an elbow, “Floor..Four, you’re going to switch with Lauren or I am going to tell Max about how you’ve been meeting your mother after lights out.”

Thank you, Kyle, and your gossip network Tris thought as the color drained from Four’s face.

“Eric, you’re going to get the proper paperwork filled out and passed. Now, are we done here?” Tris asked. She wanted sweet caffeine and not to be standing there.

“Yes.”

“For now,” Eric’s words made her swallow the urge to wrap her hands around his neck.

“Good.” She turned on her heel, heading towards the elevator. “Eric?”

He jogged to catch up, throwing an arm around her shoulders when he did.

“Must you provoke him every chance you get?” 

“Where would the fun be if I didn’t, Prior?”

And this was the moment when Tris should’ve realized things were off for a reason.

Her stomach sloshed, her head throbbed, and her body ached in that special way that only happened after a night of crawling the Pit’s bars. Tris realized she was swaying and upon opening her eyes, saw a gray ceiling.

“I’m going to be sick,” she said. 

The APC stopped, mostly due to Richard’s scarily good hearing, and the bay door began to open. She stumbled out of the hammock, bolting for outside before vomiting on the side of the road. She felt cool hands pull her hair back as she began to regret her life choices.

“Feel better?” Richards asked after helping her into the passenger’s seat. There was a canteen and a bag of candied ginger on the console between them.

“No.”

He rolled his eyes before starting to drive again. She sipped the water, chewed on the candied ginger, its spicy flavor bursting over her tongue then eventually settling her stomach. The clock on the dash read eight hundred hours.

“Where are we going?” Tris asked. She had a vague recollection of demanding Uriah call Richards to come get her from the bar they’d ended up in then refusing to walk, making her best friend carry her. 

“The ass end of Amity. Orders came down for fabrication of some equipment parts and I pulled delivery for it.” Richards answered. He probably had orders to fill from his black market fruit and vegetable side hustle. No one called him on it since fresh produce was always welcomed. Tris traded Millie sitting for the occasional order. “Why were you drinking Pit Gut Rot with the Pedrads and Christina?”

If it were anyone else, she would’ve dodged the question.

“I think Lauren is going to break up with me.”

She almost wished he’d slammed on the break instead of the smooth stop they came to.

“Did you pickle your brain last night?” Richards asked. He stared at her with wide eyes.

“No,” she said. The urge to sock him in the face rose then fell, “She just cancelled again last night. She’s been taking shifts and rescheduling and Eric’s being weird…”

Richards began to laugh. He shook with it, slamming his palms on the steering wheel like he saw a joke she didn’t.

“Lauren isn’t going to break up with you, I promise.” Richards said. He never lied to her to spare her feelings. If he did, then they wouldn’t be best friends.

“Okay. I guess I owe her an apology even if she doesn’t know it,” Tris said. Her head swam slightly, “I am never drinking again.”

After three days out in Amity, Tris couldn’t wait to be back to the Dauntless compound. Kyle cleared her being there as an “ambassadorial trip” while Richards made her schlep and carry the entire time. Though it was nice to see him wheel and deal with the few Amity members who were willing to part with their personal rations. More often than not, he ended up with more than he asked for at the beginning of the negotiation.

And she made sure not to eat anything they hadn’t brought with them, especially making an effort to avoid the bread.

“Are they always like that?” She asked. They pulled into the Motor Pool, “All songs all day and love and the world is wonderful?”

“I believe the term you’re looking for is “toxic positivity” and yes, they’re full of it.” Richards answered. He radioed in before turning the APC around to back into its designated spot, “Must be nice to be that deluded.”

Tris pretended not to see the bitter look on Richards’ face. 

“Well, we’re home now.” She said, punching him in the shoulder, “And I have some groveling to do, I think.”

“Maybe you’ll get to be groveled to as well.” Richards pointed out the windshield. 

Lauren stood there, a grim look on her face, and leaning against a wall towards the stairs was Eric, his own expression closed off. If they both were upset, it took twice as long to fix.

“Kyle and I have a couch open for you if it goes to shit, Prior,” Richards offered. He swung out of the driver’s seat, leaving her alone in the APC’s cab.

“C’mon, Tris, you can do this. Just apologize and beg for forgiveness,” she whispered before taking her own leave. Her legs shook but she somehow made her way to Lauren, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

She didn’t know where to start.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were going to break up with me and then I went drinking and woke up halfway to Amity and I’m just sorry if I hurt you because I didn’t communicate.” Tris let out a breath, trying to soothe the burning in her throat, “I’m just so bad at this. I don’t know what I’m doing since you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in my life so far.”

Lauren pulled her into a hug.

“I’m sorry too. I wanted it to be a surprise, I guess I was working too hard to cover my tracks,” Lauren said. She smelled like paint, sharp and chemical, “I thought Eric nearly blew it.”

“Blew what?” Tris asked.

“I wanted to ask you to move in with us,” Lauren said and kissed Tris’s temple. “But we needed a bigger space.”

Tris wanted to kick herself in that moment. 

“Four’s apartment,” Tris said. She dared to hope just a little, “Do you still want to move in together?”

Lauren smiled.

“She better. I spent all morning moving your crap over to the new place,” Eric voiced. “How is it that you have so many of my shirts?”

“Lauren kept leaving them over,” Tris answered. She held a hand out, “Show me our new apartment?”

Tris kissed her girlfriend softly and let herself be led.


End file.
